


expectations versus reality

by sora_grey



Series: the bonds we share [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s03e11 Alpha Pact, Extended Scene, Gen, Lydia-centric, Platonic Kissing, everyone else is mentioned for like a second - Freeform, one-sided Stiles Stilinski/Lydia Martin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:55:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6057378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sora_grey/pseuds/sora_grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She felt guilty for giving him expectations for a relationship she knew would never happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	expectations versus reality

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I'm kinda meh about this last one, especially the ending. Here's hoping you all like it anyway.

Stiles always had a plan, always found a way to save their collective asses. Of this, Lydia was absolutely certain. She'd even go as far to say that if it wasn't for him, everyone definitely would've died a long time ago. What made Stiles even more remarkable was that the only weapons he relied on were his knowledge, his sarcasm, and his trusty baseball bat. 

So when the Darach had kidnapped the Sheriff and Melissa, she and Stiles had been devastated. But even that didn't discourage him for long, because as long as the dark druid didn't have her third sacrifice, the chances of rescuing her chosen guardians alive seemed pretty good. 

It was a testament on how _fucked up_ their lives were that Lydia was actually seeing this as a win. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that at least her mother was safe. Well, as safe as it got in Beacon Hills. 

Shit really hit the fan when they found out from Isaac that Argent had been taken too, and with it, one of their best chances at ending this nightmare. Once that became known, Lydia fought down the mad urge to hurl multiple Molotov cocktails in the Darach's face and destroying the bitch herself. And then throw several more at the Alpha Pack, in particular at Aiden, for getting her and the others involved in their stupid power struggle in the first damn place. 

All thoughts of vengeance were wiped from her mind, however, once she saw how Stiles was taking the news. It would be a long time before she'd be able to forget how hard his hand shook as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. Or how ashen his face became. It was his eyes though, that really unnerved her. They had that bleak, haunted look of someone ready to give up, which was something she didn't associate with him. And if that happened, then what chance would the rest of them have? 

_Stiles?_ Lydia asked, anxiety slowly seeping into her tone. _Are you okay? What is it? What's wrong? Stiles._

 _I think—_ he gasped out. One of his hands was frantically clawing at his chest, and the other was holding onto his backpack strap in a death grip. _I think I'm having a panic attack._

Oh god, this was bad. If she thought she was afraid before, it was _nothing_ compared to the terror coursing through her body now. She kept her own fear at bay, as both of them freaking out would accomplish nothing. Plus, she knew that if he sensed just how distressed she really was, her well-being would take precedence over his own, and she couldn't let that happen. 

Since the last thing they needed was him passing out in the hallway, she quickly hauled them to the nearest sanctuary, which was the boys' locker room. Once in there though, she felt so far out of her depth. For the first time in living memory, Stiles didn't know what to do, or had a contingency plan to fall back on. That genuinely scared her, because she never even thought that was a possibility. It scared her how much she was relying on him to fix their current situation.

 _Just try and think of something else,_ she urged him. _Anything else._ She hated not knowing how to help him, that she could only watch as he struggled to get air into his uncooperative lungs. 

_Like what?_ he wondered blankly, glassy amber eyes staring back at her. 

That was a really good question. Had it been her, she'd wanna think about her friends and family. They were her reasons for fighting, after all. But when she suggested that to him, it only snapped him out of him long enough to glare incredulously at her. She winced, realizing her mistake. Belatedly, she recalled that Stiles already lost his mother, and if he were to lose the only remaining member of his family, it'd send him further over the edge. 

_Don't go there, Lydia,_ she admonished herself. _That way madness lies._ Instead she focused her attention on everything she read about panic attacks, in hopes of remembering something useful. 

Well... there was one way to slow his breathing, but she wasn't fully confident that it would work. Still, it was better than doing nothing, right? 

_Stiles, look at me._

Like a beacon, he turned his face towards her. Although he had no idea what she was about to do, he trusted her. She wished he didn't, because she sure as hell didn't trust herself right now. 

_I'm sorry,_ Lydia thought unhappily, shutting her eyes. _Forgive me._ They kissed—just once, so she could take some of his pain away, however temporary. Just once, so he knew he wasn't alone, that she was here with him. For a moment, time stopped and nothing else mattered. 

As his body relaxed, she eased off, releasing a shaky exhale. It was then that the full enormity of what just happened hits her. Did she really just—yes, yes she did. To her, it was anything but romantic, a way of saving Stiles from himself. But she was also well-aware of his longstanding feelings for her, and knew that he could misconstrue their friendship for something deeper. 

Tendrils of guilt and sadness twisted around her stomach once she realized this. Had she been the Lydia from two years ago, she would've manipulated those feelings, then mercilessly broken his heart without a second thought. But she wasn't that girl anymore, hadn't been since Peter, since the kanima. Now she felt guilty for giving Stiles expectations for a relationship she knew would never happen.

 _Why do you like me?_ she wanted to ask him. Since the third grade, she had snubbed him, regarded him as the hyperactive thorn in her side. She didn't even deign to have him as a friend. Yet in spite of all that, he kept on coming back to her. Why? What was it about her that was deserving of such loyalty? God, didn't he know that she'd just end up hurting him again? 

A weary sigh shifted Lydia's attention back to Stiles, who was taking in their present surroundings. His face had regained some color, so it was one less thing to worry about. 

_How'd you do that?_ he asked, shock etched into his features. 

_I, uh,—_ Lydia murmured, staring at her intertwined hands. She couldn't meet his eyes, didn't wanna see the hope and gratitude likely residing in them, knowing she was the reason why. _I read once that...holding your breath can stop a panic attack. So when I kissed you, you, um...you held your breath._

_I did?_

_Yeah,_ she replied, giving him a small half-smile. _You did._

He let out a weak chuckle. _Thanks. You know, that was really smart._

 _I just, I don't know. I read it somewhere,_ she rambled on, heat flooding her cheeks. _And if I was really smart, I would tell you to sign up for a few sessions with a guidance counselor,_ she added dryly. Even as the words left her mouth, she found the thought absurd. And anyway, what good would that do? It wasn't like the guidance counselor could dispense useful advice. 

For the first time since they received that horrible text, she saw a flicker of hope creeping back in his eyes. It wasn't much, but it was downright optimistic compared to what happened over the past couple of days. Whatever she said must have resonated something within Stiles, though she couldn't figure out what that was. 

_That's it,_ he said. _Morrell._

Lydia just stared at him, not comprehending at first. True, they couldn't take on both the Alphas and the Darach alone, but getting Morrell to help them was potentially dangerous, considering her own allegiance to the Alphas. Then she remembered: Morrell was also the guidance counselor, and more importantly, was nearby. She didn't like it, but what choice did they have? They were running short on time, and even shorter on other options.

 _Lydia?_ he asked, extending a hand towards her. Now that they had a destination in mind, his eyes were alight with a renewed sense of purpose. _Are we in this or not?_

 _Yeah,_ she whispered, grasping his hand and rising to her feet. _Let's go._

As they made their way to the counselor's office, a tiny voice in the back of her mind wondered whether she just fucked things up between the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted August 1st, 2015 on ff.net


End file.
